This fic deals with ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, suicidal ideology and long term emotional and verbal abuse. It is not rated higher as I want everyone possible to read it because the message is very important.

The horrible things that are being said are said to me on a near daily basis by my mother-in-law. Thankfully I care about her opinion as much as I care about what some random person on the other side of the world is having for dinner in 6 months time (translation, couldn't care less)

Loki looked at the water that was rushing under the bridge far below him. He found mortal infrastructure quite odd. The bridge was incredibly high, all because they wished to get between two points as fast as possible. They were always in a rush everywhere, but with lives as short as theirs, he could see some reasoning behind it. He enjoyed watching the world go by silently; it made him forget all of the different things he had been through in his own existence for just a little fraction of time.

He watched as cars zipped by, but one caught his attention. It was far slower than all the others, as though the driver was not fully paying attention to the world around them. He watched as it finally reached the other side of the bridge, but then pulled in to the side of the road and stopped. For some time it just stayed there before a young woman got out, and walked onto the small footway on the side of the bridge. He watched curiously from his vantage point, sitting high in the structure, invisible to the mortals, as she watched the cars go by and looking down to the water below. Some mortals liked to take a few moments on the bridge, that never really interested Loki, but this one was different, the others seemed to take in the awe that was its height, but this one did not have the posture of one happy to see such. It only served to intrigue him more.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

You looked at the water far beneath, there was no way it was less than four hundred feet to the river below. There was no chance of survival, not a possibility in the world. It would do. The traffic zoomed by, but the frequency between cars was becoming less and less, it was simply a matter of waiting.

Soon enough the traffic flow became nearly non-existent as everyone headed home for the evening from work, school and clubs, all people who had something to do, something to look forward to, someone waiting for them. You used envy them, but now you could not bring yourself to care anymore. Noticing that there was no cars coming in either direction, you climbed over the rail, took one last look below and a deep breathe, and released.

To your utter disbelief, you failed to fall, you failed to plummet to the water below, and you failed to die. All you could do was cry, even in death, you were a failure. You somehow were back over the railing, now situated in the centre of the road, far away from the edge. And for some reason, there was a man, clad in green and black leather and metal, staring down at you in utter disbelief not three feet away. He had not been there before, you were sure of it. Looking around there were no cars, so he had not sped past, and you knew for a fact there was no pedestrians on the bridge, so where had he come from. And even more importantly, how had he caught you and dragged you to the centre of the road in mere moments without you noticing.

"What in the Nine Realms were you doing?" he shouted, startling you. "You could have died."

"That was the whole point." You screeched back. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Stopping you from getting hurt." He countered angrily.

"I wanted to get hurt, I wanted to fall."

"You…you wanted to perish?" He asked in a low voice. You nodded as tears flowed freely down your cheeks. "But…but why? Why would you do such a thing?"

"That's none of your concern."

"I was almost forced to witness you end your life, you sort of made it my concern. What would a little thing like you have suffered through to make you wish to end your life? You are so young still." He asked, his voice calm, melodic. It was very soothing.

"Nothing I ever do is ever going to be good enough." You wept.

"How so?" he asked, sitting on the road in front of you, his legs crossed.

"I am told I'm too fat, I've to lose weight. So I do, then I am too skinny, and I looked great before. I am told I need to get to college, that is how to make something of myself, but only if I do something that is seen as prestigious by someone else, and not what makes me happy, if I do that, I am not good enough. What would I know of deciding a career; I am too young to understand good choices apparently. My hair is wrong, my clothes are wrong, my friends are wrong, my song preferences are wrong, my pursuits are wrong. I'm wrong, everything about me is wrong. I'm not good enough. I never will be." You ranted angrily, though if you were honest; it felt good to say it out loud, to snap the words that so deeply hurt you for so long, after hearing them so often. "All my life, that is all I have ever heard, I cannot take it anymore. I just want to be happy, but how can I be if I am always wrong."

The man looked at you. "I cannot see what is wrong with you. You look pretty much like every other young being I have seen here, you are neither fat or skinny, your hair is nothing extraordinary and what makes the person who said you are not good enough the expert on what is good to begin with. Lives are subjective, so what is good for them cannot possibly be the same as what is good for you." He argued.

You bit your lip. "So I am completely average in your opinion?"

"I have no idea. I am not an expert as to what is average for a woman, having never been one. But I see nothing worthy of honing in on as a terrible fault." He answered with a shrug.

"It won't get any better."

"If you end it all now, it never can get better, for then you have ceased to exist, but if you continue on, it seems things can only get better. If you feel so bad you wish to end your life, it cannot possibly get any worse, the only way left now is up." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Wow, never heard that cliché before." You answered sarcastically.

"There is a reason it is cliché, the same as all clichés are such, it is because for the vast majority, they are true."

"Vast majority? At least you're honest, what if I am not the vast majority, what if I am the exception?"

"What, you mean what if for you, it does not get better?"

"So long as the person who says these things is a person I am not capable of being rid of, it is not possible for it to get better."

"Well if they are any bit older than you, chances are they'll die first." Your eyes went wide at those words. "Do you take up much of their conscious thought, even if they pretend that you do not, even though you wish you did not?" You nodded. "Well, if that is the case, stay alive just to irritate them, because if you ignore their words and continue living life doing what you want and love, you will always irritate them, and those sorts of things fester, so in the long run, you win, in every sense of the word." He grinned with a wink.

"You sound like you know what you are talking about."

"I was the victim of the taunts once too, probably still would be if I cared enough of their opinions to listen. Then I became someone darker, and I despised it. All I wanted was acknowledgement that in my own way, I was worthy of attention. But I realised, no one can give me that acknowledgement other than myself, because in reality, their opinions cannot matter, no matter how much they wish they did. No one can make you happy other than yourself, and more importantly, no one can take that happiness from you without your consent. Don't let them take it, it is too hard to fight to get it back, so never let them take it in the first place." He commanded.

"Why, why did you choose to stop me?"

"I do not know honestly, I just didn't think it was right to let you do it. I just hope now you prove me right." He smiled sadly. He got to his feet and turned to leave.

"Where did you come from? I didn't see you before I let go."

"I know, I didn't want you to see me." He answered, not looking back. "It will get better you know. Just wait and see, I'm right."

"And if you're not?"

"Well then, we'll just have to work on that then won't we?" That time he did turn and smiled at you. "I'll see you soon little one."

"What's your name?"

"Tell you what, hang around and I may tell you." He winked, before fading into nothingness.

For the first time in a month, you felt the tiniest twinge of a pull on your lips. It was a small smile, but that was something.